


Could Be Worse

by katierosefun



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Awkward Romance, Baking, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:06:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now, it’s very important to take note that it wasn’t like Coulson and Daisy were taking a vacation together. They just decided to take a vacation at the same time. While telling each other. And of course, they decided that it would be convenient for them to be in the same hotel. </p><p>They didn’t, however, mean to be in the same hotel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could Be Worse

“So, will this room be to your liking?”

Daisy cast what she hoped would be a casual side-glance at Coulson – only at the warmth in her cheeks, she got the bad feeling that her glance was anything _but_ casual. Coulson, to her relief, looked just as bewildered and as – well, for lack of a better word – uncomfortable as Daisy felt.

 _Should you tell him, or should I?_ Daisy wanted to ask, and she lifted her eyebrows at Coulson, hoping that this gesture would be enough. Coulson only lifted a shoulder, which Daisy saw could mean two things –

 _One_ being, ‘it’s fine; we’ll deal with it later’ or _two_ being, ‘you should probably be the one to say something.’

Daisy figured that either way, choice two was probably more appropriate for the situation.

She looked up at the hotel manager, who was still smiling over at the two expectantly. God, it was almost creepy how he smiled at them – like his face was about to split apart or something. Clearing her throat, Daisy said slowly, “The suite’s nice. Really.” At this, the hotel manager’s smile widened.

“Well, I’m glad that you –”

“ _But_ ,” Daisy interrupted hurriedly, “I’m afraid there’s been some kind of mix-up.” She gestured around the large room. It _was_ a nice suite – and when the hotel manager had showed it to Daisy and Coulson, neither had argued right away. They might have had connecting rooms – which, while it wasn’t planned, wouldn’t be a problem for either of them.

Plus, this suite was – again – pretty sweet. (Pun absolutely intended.) There was an outdoor balcony, for one, that overlooked the peaks of snowy mountains and a reflecting lake. There were two bathrooms – _two_ – both equally furnished in an impressive array of exotic-looking shampoos and soaps and all of the luxurious bathroom things that people always pocketed before checking out. There was a small kitchen (or a very, very large kitchenette) – complete with a mini-dishwasher, a stove, an oven (an _oven,_ for God’s sake!), a microwave, and other cooking things that Daisy was sure she didn’t have the time to use all at once. There were flat-screen televisions, touch-screen computers (which, while none of this was new technology to Coulson or Daisy, were still nice details), coolers stocked with snacks and beverages, and a whole _ton_ of comfy-looking sofas and cushions and carpets that were just _waiting_ to be lounged on.

The only problem was – and it was a very, very, very big problem – that there was only _one_ bedroom.

A bedroom that happened to only have _one_ bed.

A bed that happened to have flowing silken curtains and sheets and blankets and pillows –

The first thought Daisy had when she stepped in was literally something along the lines of, _you could probably film a pretty good porno in here._

Which was totally unprofessional. (And also kind of hilarious – but mostly unprofessional. And of course, _Coulson_ was right there.)

“What mix-up?” the hotel manager now asked, smile still frozen on his face. Daisy wished that he would stop smiling. It was getting distracting – and slightly creepy.

“There’s only one bed,” Daisy responded, her brow knitting together. She pointed at the small space between Coulson and herself. “And there’s two of us.”

For the first time in their encounter, the hotel manager’s face showed the slightest wrinkle of confusion. “Really?” he asked, and his voice sounded so sincere that Daisy briefly wondered if he truly cared – or if he was just a very good actor. “But I was told that you two would only be needing one bed.”

“Who said _that?_ ” Coulson and Daisy asked in unison. The alarm in both of their voices was overwhelming; the hotel manager actually took a small step back, his hands lifting in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “I really am – but there’s nothing I can do right away. At least, not for now. All of our other rooms are booked, so unless one of you feel comfortable leaving…” His voice drifted into a small silence. Almost as an afterthought, he offered, “Perhaps in the morning, there’ll be a solution. For now, however, we can try to make your stay together most comfortable.”

This time, Daisy didn’t bother looking at Coulson. “Right,” she replied, dropping her bag on a couch. “Give us a call if another…bedroom, at least, opens up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The hotel manager flashed Daisy another smile – which she tried to forget almost instantly – and with that, he was walking out of the suite.

After the door closed, Daisy let loose a long sigh and flopped onto the couch. “Well,” she said, “we’ve been in worse situations, right?”

“Definitely,” Coulson agreed, sinking slowly into an armchair.

“I mean, I’d take sharing a bed over facing HYDRA any day,” Daisy said, forcing lightness into her voice. She was rewarded with a small smile from Coulson for her efforts, but after that, the two lapsed into an uneasy quiet.

“Nice view, though,” Coulson noted after some time.

“Mm, you’re right,” Daisy responded quickly, grateful for something to talk about. “I mean, mountains are…well.” She shot Coulson a grin. “Kind of my thing.”

“Understatement of the year, don’t you think?” Coulson asked, this time a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Please,” Daisy grinned, unlacing her boots, “our lives are made up of understatements. We’re just that complicated.” Once her feet were out of her boots, Daisy kicked back on the couch and let out another sigh, this one a bit more relaxed than the last one. “Thank God for hotel suites.” _Not so much for awkward one-bed situations, though,_ she added silently. Hurriedly, she pushed the thought from her mind. Daisy turned her face instead to Coulson, saying, “For the record, though, if nothing works out, I can take the couch.”

“You’re not taking the couch,” came Coulson’s instant reply.

“Please,” Daisy said, swinging her feet down to the floor. “I’ve slept in a van for a good few years of my life. Couches are still kind of pretty much beds to me.”

“You’re still not taking the couch,” Coulson said. “I’ll take the couch.”

“I really don’t care if I take the –”

“But _I_ really do.”

Daisy paused. Another strange silence hung in the air between the agents and after a second, Daisy shook her head. “Forget about debating over the couch,” she said, pushing herself off the couch. “I’m hungry.” She reached over to grab the little binder of hotel services sitting on the coffee table. “Are there any decent pizza places nearby? We could probably order out from one of those.” She looked up at Coulson. “And before you say anything, _yes,_ I know that there’s probably like, five hundred thousand cooks and chefs in the kitchens right now, but I want a _pizza_ – and fancy places can never make good pizzas.”

Without waiting for an answer, Daisy flipped through the binder until she found a page on local dining options. She ignored the vast list of expensive and stifling-looking restaurants and skipped straight to what the list titled ‘casual dining’.

“A- _ha_ ,” she said triumphantly, placing her finger down on a name. “They’ve got a Papa John’s here.”

“What’s the address?” Coulson asked, walking over. “I can pick it up.”

Daisy pushed the binder towards Coulson. “I don’t really care what kind of pizza you get,” she told him nonchalantly. “Just as long as it’s big. And good.”

“ _That_ certainly narrows things down,” Coulson said dryly.

“Translation – big pepperoni pizza. With lots of gooey cheese. And a _really_ awesome-looking crust.”

“ _That_ is much better.”

Daisy grinned as Coulson stood up. He grabbed his jacket and walking to the door, said over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in a few minutes – unless there’s a line.”

“Crossing my fingers,” Daisy called after him. She turned back to the binder, not so much reading through the contents any longer but instead flipping through the pages just for the sake of something to do.

“Huh,” Daisy muttered, tilting her head back. Her eyes focused on the spotless ceiling. She had thought she’d be relieved with Coulson out of the room, but now the silence seemed too loud. For a brief moment, she wondered if she should run out after Coulson – maybe they could just stay at the pizza place.

But then she remembered that the hotel manager would probably be downstairs, too, and honestly, she didn’t want to risk bumping into anyone else.

 _So what now?_ Daisy wondered, standing up. She wandered from room to room of the suite, entertaining herself by first looking through the array of shampoos and lotions. Once she had decided which ones she’d pocket later, she drifted into the kitchen.

Daisy shifted through the cabinets, stunned by the arrangement of bowls and pans already sitting inside. Pity she didn’t really know how to use them.

However, just as Daisy started to close the cabinets, something fluttering from the very back of the cabinet caught her eye.

With a frown, Daisy reached up and felt around, her fingers brushing against…paper?

“Huh,” she murmured, bringing the loose-leaf up in the light. Someone must have left it behind on accident – someone who, apparently, had known how to actually use the tools in the room. Daisy’s eyes flitted up to the very top of the page and slowly, a smile worked up on her lips. “Well, chocolate chip cookies. Why not?”

With nothing better to do, Daisy leaned against the kitchen counter and read through the carefully handwritten instructions. The sheet was slightly yellowed – it had been here for a while, Daisy supposed, just waiting to be claimed again.

And slowly, an idea formed in Daisy’s mind.

She waited exactly a minute before tossing the paper down on the counter. “Well,” she said decidedly, “why the hell not? Anyone can make cookies.”

\--

After only two trials (the first batch had burned, and there wasn’t any baking soda in the second), Daisy found herself staring down at a wire rack of satisfactory-looking cookies. With a grin, she tiredly wiped her flour-streaked hands on a towel. At long last, she at least had something to show for all of the chaos she had created beforehand. (There were egg yolks dripping on the counter, a thin film of flour and baking soda on the cabinets, and a heaping pile of mixing bowls sitting in the sink.)

Daisy shot an annoyed look at the mess. She’d have to clean that up later, she knew, but right now…

Just as she took the first bite of a cookie, the door swung open.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” she heard Coulson say. “There _was_ a long line and some kind of mishap going on in the kitchen…” His voice drifted as Daisy stepped out of the kitchen. Coulson’s eyes flitted to the flour-y mess on her hands – and then to the streaks of batter that she knew were on her shirt.

“So…I’m guessing that you had a mishap on your own?” he asked, puzzled.

“Something along those lines,” Daisy replied, taking another bite of her cookie. She eyed the pizza box in Coulson’s hands. “Great,” she said, grinning. “Pizzas _and_ cookies.”

“You made cookies while I was out?”

“I was bored,” Daisy replied cheerfully. She ducked back into the kitchen and grabbed the wire rack. “Come on, try one.” With a small laugh, she added, “I promise they’re safe.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Coulson replied, taking a cookie. He held up the pizza box. “Shall we?”

\--

All awkwardness seemed to melt away within a matter of minutes. The single bedroom was long forgotten, and for the rest of the evening, it was almost as though they had traveled back in time to when things were simpler. When this kind of casual conversation was considered normal and routine.

It wasn’t until the phone started ringing did Daisy actually remember where they were.

“You wanna get that, or should I?” Daisy asked, grabbing another cookie as she stood up.

“You’re already on your way,” Coulson replied drowsily from the couch.

Daisy shot him a grin as she picked up the phone. “Nothing good ever comes from a phone call,” she only said. She propped the phone against her ear. “Hello?”

“Miss? We heard that you were looking for another bedroom.”

_Oh. That._

“What is it?” Coulson asked. Daisy looked over at him. He must have completely forgotten, too.

“The bedroom thing,” Daisy replied.

“Oh,” Coulson frowned slowly. “That.”

Daisy gestured awkwardly at the phone. “Hold on a minute,” she told the person on the line. Then, looking back at Coulson, she continued, “I could just…”

 _Just…_ her words drifted into nothingness.

Into a silent question.

“What’s the hassle, anyways?” Coulson asked after a pause. “We’ve been in worse situations, haven’t we?”

Daisy felt the cool sensation of relief in her chest. “Right,” she agreed faintly. She brought the phone back to her ear. “Actually, it’s fine,” she said quickly, before either of them could change their mind. “No need for the additional bedroom.”

Without waiting for an answer, she quickly set down the phone and slowly set her eyes on Coulson.

Another silence rushed back in.

“Anyways,” Daisy said, clearing her throat, “are we gonna finish that pizza or what?”

\--

It was almost two in the morning when either of them started to feel sleepy. Daisy kicked aside the plates, and with a sleepy sigh, she stretched out across the couch on the other side of Coulson. She didn’t care if her socked feet were nudging his – she was too tired to move.

“This is nice,” she heard him mumble from the other end of the couch.

“Yeah?” Daisy asked, her voice coming out more like a whisper.

“Can’t remember the last time we relaxed.”

Daisy snorted softly. “How about never?”

“How about now?”

Daisy rubbed her hands over her eyes. “Now…” she murmured. She lifted her head up and peered at Coulson. His eyes were closed. She smiled to herself and dropped her head back on the couch. “Now seems…fine,” she admitted quietly.

\--

There was something soft pressed against her cheek.

“Mmph,” Daisy mumbled, burying her face a little deeper into the pillow. Even with her eyes closed, she was aware of the rising sun peeking from the windows – only she didn’t want to move just yet. She was warm. Warm and comfortable and everything smelled nice, considering there was still a pizza box laying around somewhere…

Daisy brought her hand up to bring the pillow closer to her; maybe she could claim a few more minutes of sleep…

And then she came up with only a fistful of shirt.

Daisy’s eyes popped open – and her heart plummeted.

She wasn’t sleeping on a pillow – well, not exactly.

_Coulson._

_God. She had been sleeping on his chest._

Daisy’s first instinct was to scramble away and hope to dear God that Coulson wouldn’t know. Maybe he didn’t notice – maybe –

“Morning,” Coulson mumbled.

“Hi,” Daisy replied, feeling heat creep up her cheeks. “Are you…?”

“Mm-hm.”

“This is really –”

Coulson drowsily opened his eyes. “We’ve been in worse situations,” he only said.

And slowly, Daisy’s heartbeat slowed down. She sank down next to Coulson again, her head resting against his shoulder. “Could be worse,” she agreed quietly.

The sunrise was perfect.


End file.
